What Is Beautiful?

Last night she called me beautiful.

I know the truth of that.

The features of my face are too chiseled, too harsh at times. I tend to frown when I am deep in thought, my mouth disappears into a thin tight line of concentration, my eyes crinkle at their corners, and surely I look fierce, my complexion too dark and gruesome, exacerbated when I forget to apply the razor by a dark shadow of stubble. I do not look friendly or easy to approach for casual conversation at those times, pehaps appearing too raw and brutal around the edges. Dark and sinister. The Black Panther is an apt description then, to be sure.

My body is still in relatively good shape for a man in the midst of his life as I am, the muscles retain their strength still, the flesh is toned. But its surface is marred repeatedly with scars of past grievances done to it, making it flawed and imperfect. I have a long jagged scar along one side beneath my ribcage and a thin line of a white scar along one inner thigh, from knee to groin, both made by blades that were sunk deep enough to end my life, but on different occasions. My left palm is bears an old scar of a numeral that was once burned there, although the scar is quite faded now and the flesh long healed. I have faint scars about my wrists where ropes that bound me sliced into the flesh as I struggled to escape, and thin white lines that lie across my back where my flesh was ripped by the skillful application of a leather bullwhip, both of those received when I was captive to men who would have sold me into slavery, as they did the others they held against their will. One of my shoulders and arms bears the jagged scar of a past encounter with the razored claws of a wild beast, and now the other one will soon wear the mark of a bullet meant for someone else.

I am not beautiful.

She looks at me through the eyes of her love. That is the only way she could call me so. I think she is brave, quite possibly the most courageous person I have ever known.

She sleeps so peacefully now as I hold her, her body draped against and across mine, while I scratch out these few words in my journal. How she sleeps now with me, her position, somehow this gives her some stability in her dreams, some measure of being tethered, I think. I do not pretend to know the way of it, but without me here, I think she goes to another place in her sleep, a place that is sometimes not comforting or peaceful, a place of apprehension, maybe even danger. She painted last night in her sleep, she was near me in our bed, but not on me, like now, and it somehow let her move, let her act. We all have nightmares, but it seems to be so vivid for Gabriella.

What did she do before I was here? Who was here to hold her and keep her safe? She must have been so frightened every night, scared to know where her dreams might take her, yet still she faced those nights. Did she face them alone? If so, she is so brave. She is an amazing woman, my wife.

I have to find Gavin's journal, I have to understand precisely what he dreamt. I know I have it somewhere, but I am loathe to move and disturb Gabriella. Last night I called her "Highness". Later on she told me who her father was. She thinks I should not recall, as she said it when my rationality was bound by the serpents of passion, but she has yet to fully understand me. The panther watches for a long time, his body still as he observes it all with his eyes and his ears, and only springs to action when he has weighed all the variables, considered all the possible consequences, and planned his movements very carefully.
I heard her.
I am only being still momentarily as I consider the possibilities.

There is one thing I have already considered, and therefore decided.
I do love her.
I love looking at her so deep in peaceful slumber. I love being her sanctuary when she sleeps.
I want to memorize the way she looks as she sleeps in my arms.
I know we cannot stay this way forever.
I am not sure where we go from here. Perhaps I do not have to know. Perhaps all we can have is today, or just a few todays strung together. It is she that has the Sight, and not I, thankfully so.
I do not think I want to know, how long.
We have right now. Today. We will have that, by God.....we will.
And it will be beautiful.

A beautiful and blinding morning
The world outside begins to breathe
See clouds arriving without warning
I need you here to shelter me

And I know that only time will tell us how
To carry on without each other

So keep me awake to memorize you
Give me more time to feel this way
We can't stay like this forever
But I can have you next to me today

If I could make these moments endless
If I could stop the winds of change
If we just keep our eyes wide open
Then everything would stay the same

And I know that only time will tell me how
We'll carry on without each other

So keep me awake for every moment
Give us more time to be this way
We can't stay like this forever
But I can have you next to me today

We'll let tomorrow wait, you're here, right now, with me
All my fears just fall away, when you are all I see

We can't stay like this forever
But I have you here today

And I will remember
Oh I will remember
Remember all the love we shared today

("Awake" by Josh Groban)